


Black Excellence Dinner aka BED

by Airplanesandcookies (Mosgirllee)



Series: untitled Derek Nurse fics [4]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Black Excellence, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 23:43:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17776457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mosgirllee/pseuds/Airplanesandcookies
Summary: Based off this little exchange I made up:Nursey and Ransom grab dinner together at least once a month. They affectionately named it, “B.E.D.,” short for “Black Excellence Dinner”.Holster: “Where are you going, Rans?”Ransom: “I’m taking Nursey to BED!”Holster: …Holster: “When you get back, we need to come up with a better name for "Friend’s Attic Relaxation Time”.Later:Holster: "Hear me out. What about ‘Friendship, Understanding, Compassion, and Kindness….?’”Ransom: “No, bro. Just no.”





	Black Excellence Dinner aka BED

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stultiloquentia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stultiloquentia/gifts).



> I wrote this for @stultiloquentia who wrote: I loved your latest Nursey fic, so if you'd like a prompt, how about him bonding with or mentoring Ford?

When Nursey and Ransom had asked Ford to grab dinner with them, she had no real expectations except 1) there would be food at 2) some point in the evening.  
If anything, this would be an opportunity for her to wear her favorite flared skirt (it has pockets), put on some lipstick, and get a meal that wasn’t reheated congealed glop from the cafeteria. 

Clearly, she had set her expectations way too low.

“This is a little fancier than I was imagining.” She said as Ransom held open the door to one of the newest and trendiest restaurants in Boston - a seafood joint with sleek white modern chairs and windows that took up two full walls. Ford had even read about the place in the Swallow because apparently a few people from the freakin’ fabulous cast of Hamilton had stopped by. 

Fancy restaurant, dinner with number two and number three of her ‘Cooler Than Cool and Cooler than You’ list (Lardo had claimed the number one spot instantly) had Ford feeling a bit out of her depth. 

Thank God she had a background in theatre. 

“This is a very special Black Excellence Dinner.” Nursey replied. “We are welcoming the newest member to our fold and celebrating our graduating alternate captain over here. And yo,” Nursey pointed and leaned in close to Ford, pulling her in as a conspirator, “He even put on a real shirt. Look, buttons.”

“First Holster and now you? Bro, I thought you had my back.” Ransom complained, running his hands down his shirt. “We all don’t look like we have the full fall and spring men’s line of a Banana Republic in our closet.”

The guys bickered, no - chirped (hockey players chirp), back and forth while the hostess seated them at a small table in the middle of the restaurant. 

Ransom held up his iced water and began a toast, “First, I would like to call to order the largest gathering for the Samwell Men’s Hockey Black Excellence Dinner.”  
Ford looked around the table. “There’s only three of us.”

Nursey clinked his glass against hers. “Word.”

Ransom continued. “Next, I would like to toast our newest team manager, Foxtrot. I’m sorry I’m leaving, but I know that Lardo is leaving the keys in capable hands.” 

Ford felt her face heat and she bit down on a smile. “Thanks guys. I mean, I’m really happy that I got the job. If Nursey hadn’t given me a flyer in the commons, I would have missed the posting all together.”

“About that.” Ransom interjected before taking sipping some water. 

Which, Ford wondered to herself, how much water did he drink everyday to get skin that clear? Just how much was genetic and how much was achievable skincare routines?

“Nursey, did you really walk around and look for ‘managerial’ types’?”

Nursey laughed, a deep throaty chuckle, a bit gravely, and a bit late night soul DJ. “Yes and no. I mostly said that to mess with Poindexter.”

Curious, Ford pulled her chair forward, “You gotta explain that.”

The waitress came by and took their order for appetizers and drinks before disappearing again.

“So, the team was talking about posting the position, right? They were going the tried and true. The job was going to be posted online within the athletics department, the Swallow, on the general information boards in the dorms and in the commons. And what would happen? The common boards get covered up within the hour by the LAX bros. And lets be real, the way the posting is listed on the athletics job page makes it sounds like you need a know how to service and maintain a Zamboni.

“So, I asked Lardo, how did she hear about the job and she was like, Shitty told her and I quote, “I like adventure.” - which in this case, was not helpful.”

Ford could only nod, because, of course. That was number one ‘Cooler Than Cool and Cooler than You’ for you.

Nursey continued. “But she also said she never even saw the job postings around campus because she was an art major and barely saw daylight.”

“So, did you stand around in front of buildings passing out flyers to girls with glasses?” Ford asked directly, because, you know, clarity. 

“I passed out flyers to the students coming out of the Management 101 class.”

Ransom snorted his water and Ford slapped her hand over her eyes, embarrassed. “I was leaving class when I ran into you!”

And Nursey shrugged, a self depreciating motion that rolled the credit off of his shoulders. And that story just slotted in like a puzzle piece into the full picture that she had collected on him. 

Underneath that cloaked persona of cultivated chill and nonchalance, that man was observant, thoughtful, sharp, and an innovative thinker. Lardo had even mentioned it in passing, “That dude, is a true Ravenclaw. He is one of the smartest people I’ve ever met and he will never ever mention it. Blink and you miss it behind that hipster aesthetic.” Lardo then paused for a sec. “And the clumsiness. But that’s proof the universe likes to balance shit out.”

Ford sat up straight and pulled her napkin in her lap as the first of the appetizers were laid down. “So, is this a regular thing? Black Excellence Dinner?”

Ransom took too big of a bit of food and so Nursey spoke up instead. “Yeah, we try to get out once a month at least. It’s a chance to unload, brainstorm, and just relax in the shared experience, you know?”

“Dude, I’m from Canada. Do you know how long I have been the only black guy on the hockey team?” Ransom asked, reaching for another piece of bread. “I saw Nursey and was like, Bro. We gotta talk.”

Nursey nodded, “It was so cool to have someone to tell me where to get my hair cut.”

“Monica” Ford and Ransom said in unison. 

“Or how to constructively talk with a teammate about his casual racism and his big mouth.” Nursey continued, voice getting higher and faster. 

“You haven’t met Shitty yet, but he took care of like seventy-five percent of those awkward conversations. He had a gift.” Ransom said, wiping his mouth. 

Ford looked back and forth between them and felt the urge to confess. “Okay, I’m kinda relieved. I mean, when I went for the job, I honestly didn’t know any black players except for PK Subban.”

Nursey nodded as the main dishes came out to the table.

“There has been a huge increase over the years.” Ransom said, getting ready to tuck into his food. “But if there’s only like fifty to start with, even if you double the number of black guys, then you still only have a small fraction of the number of players. I think there’s what, only about 110 players now. Nursey can name them all.”

Nursey shrugged again, “I can name only about 80.”

Ford pulled her plate towards her, and thought about how many times did she even have an opportunity of fellowship like this and immediately felt the pang of homesickness.  
Ransom paused eating and looked her in the face. 

“So Foxy. Can I call you Foxy?” You are from Detroit, the ‘Hockeytown’, and you are telling me that before Samwell, you have never been to a game?”

Ford hesitated before answering, “No? I never saw a game until I was hired by Lardo. Not even on T.V.”

Ransom’s eyebrow quirked despite his best efforts. 

“I know! I know! I mean, I can tell you every heartbreaking and soul crushing detail about the Detroit Lions. I can recite Piston history for the past twenty years, but hockey? I got nothing.”

“But the Red Wings!” Ransom exclaimed. “They are in your backyard!”

“And they haven’t won since 2008.” Nursey sang, smiling. 

“It’s been 8 years, are you seriously still upset Pittsburg lost back then? You were thirteen!” Ransom countered.

Ford laughed, easing back into her comfort zone. “How did you both end up playing hockey?” She asked.

Ransom simply said, “I’m from Canada and my dad learned to play in a beer league because he thought it would be fun.”

Nursey thought about it for a moment, before reaching for some salad. “So, in middle school, I kept getting in trouble with my teachers, right? I was just that kid that needed to move around a lot. I can’t just sit all day. So my mom came in with, ‘I’m tired of coming up to this school because you are confusing his need to expend energy with bad behavior.’ So she signed me up for some of everything to see if that would help me to feel settled. There was a hockey camp that met daily and I joined up.”

“Did that help you get in trouble less at school?” Ford asked?

Nursey shrugged, “No, that teacher just didn’t like me. She was always going to find something to call home about.” 

They went through their meals and dessert with coffee, all while laughing at wealth of Samwell stories.

“We have a few more roadies, but you haven’t really laughed until you have heard Holster do a full music compilation. Like, I don’t know how he can mimic practically anyone - style, voice. You name it.”

Ford laughed too, the cool evening air hitting her face as they left the restaurant pleasantly full and happy.

“Thanks for the invite. I didn’t know how much I needed this.” And she really didn’t. She had left her two brothers back in Detroit, along with her friends and a community that looked a bit more like her, even if she still didn’t quite ‘blend in’ there either. And somehow she found two more brothers on the hockey team, of all places. 

“Thanks for hanging out with us. You want to come to the next dinner?” Nursey asked as he ordered a Lyft on his phone.

Ford had already put the next date in her calendar, mentally picked out a few restaurants near campus that she was going to price out and compare based on preferences.

“That sounds like a plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in August 2017 and never got around to posting it. We now have way more information on Denice who is not from Michigan but I loved giving a shout out to the D.


End file.
